Zutto, Isshoni
by Regatto
Summary: Forever, Together An AU fiction. From Bakumatsu Edo to present day Tokyo, three lifetimes, one undying love. Otanjoubi...in which the birthday becomes a nightmare. Pairings: TezukaFuji, OishiKikumaru
1. Yami

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me! *sighs sadly*  
  
A/N: AU POT story. Please note that there will be great historical inaccuracies and yaoi in this fiction. Glossary of some terms at the end of the story. (RK fans, do not kill me!)  
  
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Prologue : Yami (Darkness)  
  
"Continuing from the previous lesson on the Boshin War, I will be talking about the siege of Hakodate..."  
  
Kikumaru Eiji was uncharacteristically still, his eyes wide with interest as he listened to Noguchi sensei's sonorous voice in rapt silence. Friends and acquaintances of Eiji would be highly surprised if they saw him: a quiet and attentive Eiji was a rarity. A quiet and attentive Eiji in Japanese History class was, quite frankly speaking, an aberration of nature to say the least.  
  
But Noguchi sensei was hardly a conventional Japanese History teacher. To begin with, he was not even a teacher. Fresh out of college, with a burning ambition to become an actor, Noguchi Hirazawa was only teaching the class because his staid elder brother who was teaching at Seigaku had came down with measles, and needed a temporary replacement.  
  
With the uncanny instinct of someone who was born to perform, Noguchi had taken one look at his 'audience' (a class of twenty-five pubescent, thirteen year old students) and decided that an account of the Meiji Ishin needed to be exciting: meaning an extra emphasis on the bloody events and numerous deaths. He was immensely successful: from day one, the students were enraptured by his lessons. Due in no small measure, Noguchi thought proudly, to his plummy and well-modulated voice, and his expressive face that mirrored myriad emotions, be it joy, anger or even sorrow, with practiced ease.  
  
This afternoon, Noguchi was at his dramatic best. "He was a brave samurai, however, under the hail of bullets, he was, but flesh and blood!" His voice reaching a crescendo, " And so on May 11, 1869, second year of Meiji, Hijikata Toshizou was fatally shot and died in battle! Perhaps it is apt that a man whose hands were so stained with blood came to ..."  
  
The harsh, grating sound of a chair been pushed backward rudely interrupted Noguchi in mid sentence. A wave of displeasure swept across his face as he turned to stare at the offender.  
  
"Sumimasen, Noguchi sensei." Said the slight figure softly. He was standing behind his desk, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. His head was bent, his slightly long hair shadowing his face. "I am not feeling well. Please excuse me!" With these words, he bolted out of the classroom, overturning his chair in the process.  
  
"Fuji!" Cried Eiji in alarm before he sprung from his seat and ran after his best friend.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hands clutching the cold metal edges of the sink, Fuji retched violently as bile rose up his throat. It was a long while before he emptied all the contents in his stomach; exhausted and drenched in cold sweat, Fuji sank onto the cold tiles of the floor and buried his face in his arms.  
  
The door burst opened as Eiji, followed by a panting Noguchi, rushed into the toilet.  
  
"Fuji! What's wrong? Daijoubu?" Eiji was distressed. It was not like Fuji to run abruptly out of class: something had to be terribly wrong.  
  
"I am fine, Eiji." Fuji lifted his head and smiled wanly. "My lunch probably didn't go down too well..."  
  
"Kikumaru, it's best that you accompany Fuji to the sick bay to see the nurse." Noguchi said authoritatively. Then injecting concern into his voice, Noguchi continued compassionately: "Fuji, rest well and get better soon."  
  
For a moment, Fuji stared at Noguchi, his azure blue eyes wide and unblinking. Cold contempt and some nameless emotions flashed briefly in his eyes before they became veiled. A pleasant smile on his face, Fuji nodded. "Thank you, Noguchi sensei."  
  
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"Neh, Eiji. You really enjoy Noguchi sensei's classes." There was no inflection in Fuji's voice as he lay on the bed, staring at the yellowed and chipping ceiling.  
  
"Nya! He really makes them so exciting! I feel as if I am a part of the action!" Eiji gesticulated wildly. "I wish I were born in those times!"  
  
"Those were not happy times, Eiji." Fuji said gently.  
  
"I know, Fuji. But it would have been so fun!" Eiji grinned irrepressibly. "Maybe I could have been a member of the Shinsengumi. A Miburo! Hmmm...I would make an excellent Shinobi!"  
  
Fuji quirked an eyebrow, amusement evident in his smile. "A Shinobi? You? Kikumaru Eiji?"  
  
"Unnya! You are so mean, Fuji!" Wailed Eiji as he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "I know that I am loud and can't keep still and I have no patience..." Then he laughed merrily. "Nya! You are right. I have absolutely none of the qualities a Shinobi should have."  
  
"A Shinobi is a creature of the shadows. Only in the concealing mantle of darkness can he find justification for his existence." Fingers lightly touching Eiji's cheek, Fuji looked somberly at his friend. "You, Kikumaru Eiji, are a creature of light. You are like the sun, bringing bright cheer to everyone."  
  
"Nya, Fuji! Why are ..."  
  
"Kikumaru! Go back to class and let your friend have a good rest!" Chided the nurse, interrupting Eiji's question. Looking at the boy's worried expression, she continued. " Fuji's fine. He just needs to rest without anyone disturbing him!"  
  
"Fuji, are you sure you are alright?" Eiji was unconvinced.  
  
"Perfectly alright." Fuji smiled and nodded. "Go back to class, Eiji!"  
  
Finally assured of his friend's well-being, Eiji skipped jauntily out of the sick-bay.  
  
The smile faded from Fuji's face as he watched his friend's retreating back. Staring bleakly out of the window, Fuji knew he was not alright. His mouth twisted painfully. He hadn't been alright since that day four years ago. The day when he discovered that, he too, belonged to the darkness.  
  
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Bakumatsu Late Tokugawa Bakufu period.  
  
Meiji Ishin Meiji Restoration. A series of events that took  
place from 1866 to 1869, leading to great political and  
social changes in Japan. 1867 also saw the end of the  
Tokugawa Bakufu (the Tokugawa Shogunate).  
  
Hijikata Toshizou (1835-1869) Fukucho (Vice Commander)  
of Shinsengumi. A great strategist and tactician. His cold  
exterior and his ruthlessness earned him the nickname of  
'Oni' (Demon).  
  
Shinobi ninjia 


	2. Chi I

Disclaimer:  No one belongs to me! *sighs sadly*

A/N: AU POT story. (As before, RK and Kurogane fans do not kill me!)

A big thank you to all for your kind reviews! I am eternally grateful! A special note for Suke-san: Hoi! Hoi! ^^ Saito is one hot Miburo neh? Yes, this is partially inspired by RK.

Glossary of kendo terms at the end of the story. *coughs* There are a number of them, so please be patient.  

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Flashback: Chi (Blood) Part I

"Nya, Fuji! Hurry up! I promised Kurata-san we'll be at his dojo by three!" Eiji's face was scrunched up with exasperation as he turned back and glared at his friend. Fuji's reply was a serene smile as he continued with his leisurely pace of walking.

"Hurry up! Kurata-san said that he will give us a short lesson on kendo and we might even get a chance to practice with a shinai!" As if to highlight his point, Eiji started to swing an imaginary shinai at Fuji, punctuating each of his movement with loud exclamations: "Hoi! Hoi! Hoi!"

"Neh, Eiji. I think you've been watching too many samurai dramas on TV. Your obsession has reached new heights." Fuji glanced slyly at his friend, "Do your parents know that you've been hiding in the living room closet at night when they are watching the dramas?"

"Nya! You can't tell my parents, Fuji! They will kill me!" Eiji burst out, his eyes wide with sudden worry. Fuji hurriedly faked a cough to cover his smile: it was so easy to tease Eiji.

A look of mock seriousness on his face, Fuji continued, "I think those dramas are hardly suitable for boys of our age, Eiji. To be exposed to such violence at the tender age of nine...I mean, look at the effect on you." 

Eiji was becoming highly agitated: if possible, his face was attaining a hue similar to that of his hair. "Unnya! I am not obsessed! I am just interested...alright, make that very interested in samurais! And we are going to a kendo class, not a kenjutsu one! It's not violent!" Eiji's voice become even louder, "Besides, Okita Souji was nine when he joined a dojo and learnt kenjutsu."

Fuji stopped smiling and blinked. Then he asked carefully, "Neh, Eiji, are we talking about the same Okita Souji who was the Ichiban Tai Taichou of the Shinsengumi?"

Eiji nodded vigorously in affirmation. Fuji resisted an urge to laugh: the fact that Okita Souji was a tensai at kenjutsu and belonged to a totally different era seemed to have escaped Eiji completely.  

"Nya! We have arrived! Let's go in!" Eiji grabbed Fuji's wrist and dashed for the entrance. 

_Never a dull moment when you are with Eiji! _Fuji thought in wry amusement as his friend literally dragged him across the courtyard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurata Yonichi was expressionless as he stood in silence, watching the two boys engaged in kakari geiko. The air was filled with sounds: the almost imperceptible sound of his breathing, the sound of sliding feet as the two boys moved around swiftly, yet cautiously, and the hypnotic sound of shinai hitting against shinai as each attack was warded off. He gave an inner smile when Ashihei landed a strike on Oda's men. Although Oda's techniques were stronger that that of Ashihei's, the latter had natural instincts and was quick to capitalize on any mistakes made by his opponent. Both of them were very strong, and would do very well for their upcoming National matches. From the corner of his eye, Kurata caught a movement and his stoic mien crinkled into a warm smile while he saw the two small, school uniform-clad figures standing at the doorway.

"Yame!" At Kurata's command, the two boys halted immediately. Nodding his head, Kurata continued. "Ashihei, your stamina has improved but your ashi sabaki is not fluid enough. Go work on it. Oda, your shikake waza is good, but you'll need to polish up your oji waza. Both of you go and practice by yourselves now."

"Hai!" The two boys bowed respectfully.

"Ah, Eiji-kun, you've finally arrived. I see you've brought along your friend too." Kurata's eyes twinkled merrily as he walked towards the grinning red-haired boy, and his silent friend with the startling blue eyes. Kurata was an old friend of Eiji's family, and had recently paid them a visit. Seeing the energetic boy's interest in all things related to samurais, he had extended an invitation to his dojo which was readily accepted.

"This is Fuji, Kurata-san!" Eiji's excitement was palpable. "Nya! Who are those boys? They looked so kakkoi when they were sparring!"

"Ashihei and Oda are both my students. They have been learning kendo with me for the past five years. Oda is a san-dan and Ashihei is a ni-dan. They are here for extra practice today because they'll both be competing nationally next week." 

Eiji's eyes grew even wider at Kurata's revelation. "Kakkoi! Nya, Kurata-san! Are you really going to give Fuji and I a lesson today? Will we get to hold a shinai as well?"

"I'll give you a basic lesson today. If both of you do well enough, I'll let you practice some swings with a shinai." Kurata smiled, "Of course you'll have to address me as Kurata-sensei, and you'll have to change into the appropriate attire."

"Hai!" Saying this, Eiji grabbed hold of Fuji once again and sped off in the direction of the changing room. Watching the backs of the boys, Kurata was curious: for a nine-year old boy, Fuji was strangely still and quiet. Not only that, he could sense that Fuji was uneasy as well. He wondered why it was so. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_I can't breathe properly._ Fuji thought as he and Eiji sat in seiza position, watching Kurata as he carried out nanane buri. _I haven't been able to breathe properly since I stepped into this dojo. There's a strange pressure bearing down on me, as if the air is too heavy and dense. Fuji shifted uneasily. He had never worn a kendo keikogi and hakama before, but the weight and drape of the clothing felt strangely familiar. Yet, it was a familiarity that disturbed him. With each breath that he took and each slight movement that he made, the worn material seemed to be caressing his skin, sending myriad sensations down his nerve endings. _

Then, there were the whisperings in his ear, soft, yet incessant. Tried as he could, Fuji could make no sense out of the jumbled, incoherent words_. Please, Kami-sama, let this end soon. I just want to leave this place. Fuji begged silently.   _

"Alright, I'll let both of you have a few practice swings with a shinai!" Eiji whooped in delight at Kurata's announcement. 

_No!_ Something screamed inside Fuji as he stood up slowly and extended his hands to receive the shinai from Kurata. The murmurings in his ears seemed to become even louder. For a moment, Fuji hesitated. Then he saw the curious look in Kurata's eyes. Gritting his teeth, Fuji resolutely grabbed hold of the shinai.

The whisperings stopped abruptly. The silence was so sudden that Fuji almost lost his balance.

"I hope you boys were watching properly just now! We'll start with your suburi. Haji…" A middle-aged lady appeared at the doorway.

"Sumimasen! Kurata-sensei, there's an important call for you from the National Kendo Association."

"Arigato, Noame-san. I will take the phone call right now.  Oda! Ashihei! Both of you stop your practices for a while and help Eiji and Fuji here with their suburi. Eiji-kun, Fuji-kun, I will be back after the call." Saying this, Kurata followed Noame out of the dojo.

Oda and Ashihei were still in their full dogu. Taking his men off, Ashihei grinned at Fuji and Eiji. "Nice to meet you! I am Ashihei Kyotaro, sixteen years old and kendo extraordinaire. Tipping his head to the left to indicate his companion, Ashihei continued, "And this guy is Oda Ryushiyo, seventeen years old. He's keeping his men on because he has an ugly face."     

Behind his men, Oda threatened jokingly in a muffled voice: "Ashihei, would you like to polish the floors of the entire dojo?"

"Hai, hai." Ashihei's face became serious again. "We'll start with jogeburi. Oda and I will swing our shinais, both of you watch and then follow the both of us." Ashihei and Oda started swinging their shinais in up and down motions. 

As the shinais moved through the air with whooshing sounds, without warning, the murmurings in Fuji's ears started anew. _What's happening?_ Fuji thought, feeling disoriented. Through the babble of sounds, he heard Ashihei's shout of "Hajime!" and started to swing his own shinai as well.

The air in the dojo shifted subtly. 

_He was swinging his shinai when they called out to him._

_"Hey you!" He shifted his eyes to look at them, but didn't stop with his swings. Up and down, up and down, his shinai cut through the air with economical swiftness._

_One of them sneered at him. "Denbe and I heard that you are a tensai, but you don't look like much! Just a small, skinny boy with a pretty face."_

_He ignored them. Sometimes pests leave on their own if they didn't get any response._

_"Scared aren't you? You lily-face brat." The other person was taunting him now. "Kenji, we both know why he's here!"        _

_His eyes narrowed dangerously, but the men continued to leer at him. "Oh yes, he is Hijikata-san's favourite. You really must be very 'talented'. For him to like you this much, you must give him a really good …"_

_Something hot and dark flared inside him. "Hajime." He said coldly._

_"Hajime!" Denbe shouted, already swinging his shinai at him._

_"Kote! Kote! Do!" He called out in quick succession as his shinai struck Denbe's left and right wrists, before landing on Denbe's chest with a vicious swing. _

_Denbe staggered backwards with the impact, but quickly regained his balance. "Kya!" Denbe screamed loudly, running forward with his hands extended backwards, holding the shinai in a thrust position. _

_He did a swift ninety degree turn leftwards, and swung his shinai downwards onto Denbe's. In a simultaneous movement, his arms shifted and he thrust the handle of his shinai sideways into Denbe's middle. "Seme!" Denbe crumpled._

_Kenji swore loudly as he charged and brought his shinai downwards._

_He neatly side-stepped Kenji, before counter-attacking with his shinai. "Men!" _

_Kenji's men flew off his face upon the shinai's impact. "Teme!" Kenji swung his shinai in a broad arc as he cursed loudly._

_He raised his own shinai and let it slide against the attacking shinai, weakening its force. Lightning fast, he dropped to his haunches and thrust the tip of his shinai upwards into Kenji's throat "Tsuki!"_

_A choked sound came from Kenji as he fell down heavily. _

_"Kya!" Denbe was attacking again, swinging his shinai sideways._

_"Uchiotoshi!" He shouted as he swung his shinai down onto Denbe's shinai, the impact so great that the  latter's shinai splintered and flew apart.  _

_"Shinde." He said calmly as he prepared to strike Denbe's exposed face._

_Suddenly someone shouted his name._

_"Souji!"_

_"__Fuji__!"  _

"Fuji!" 

The fog surrounding his senses cleared suddenly. 

Fuji stood in ice-cold shock as he stared at the scene before him. Ashihei was half sitting, half crouching on the ground, his right hand extended to shield his face. Behind him, Oda's hands were wrapped around his throat as he coughed violently. Fuji felt his heartbeat slowed to a crawl when he saw a splintered shinai, one half was close to Ashihei and the other half was in front of Eiji. Blood trickled steadily down from a fresh cut on Eiji's face.

"Fuji-kun," Kurata said quietly as he held on to an anxious Eiji, "perhaps you should let go of your shinai."

Slowly, Fuji lowered his shinai from its striking position. _Kami-sama, what happened? I wasn't even aware that I had raised my shinai...His vision became blurred, and then all strength seeped from his body. His shinai dropped from his hands and he collapsed onto the wooden floor. As the last trace of consciousness fled from him, Fuji remembered only one thing: the dark terror in Ashihei's and Oda's eyes._

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Okita Souji                   (1844-1868) Ichiban Tai Taichou (Captain of First Unit ) of Shinsengumi. Original name Soujiro Harumasa. A child prodigy of kenjustsu, able to wield a katana, a bokken or a shinai all with equal skill. Although feared for his skill, Souji was apparently a cheerful person who loved playing with children.

Shinde                          die

Kakkoi                         cool

Kendo Terms

Ashi sabaki                   Footwork

Dan                              Rank

Do                               Chest/abdomen protector

Dogu                            Kendo protectors (men, kote, do, tare) AKA Bogu

Hajime                         Begin

Hakama                       Split skirt

Kakari geiko                All out attack exercise

Keikogi                        Exercise jacket

Kote                            Fencing gauntlet (glove)

Men                             Face mask, men point

Nanane buri                  Side to side suburi

Oji waza                       Defensive techniques

Seiza                            Formal sitting position

Seme                            To break opponent's centre by pushing in with one's shinai

Shikake waza               Offensive techniques

Shinai                           Bamboo sword

Suburi                          Shinai swinging practice

Tsuki                            Throat protector, tsuki point

Uchiotoshi waza           Strike the shinai down technique

Waza                           Technique

Yame                           Stop


	3. Chi II

Disclaimer:  No one belongs to me! *sighs sadly*

A/N: AU POT story. 

Reviewers, thank you for your support! It brings me so much joy when I get any reviews! I am really grateful. Ano, this is a long, but important chapter. I hope you stick with me through this. Domo arigato!

Chi: Part II

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1850, Shirakawa Village

The two boys sat sprawled under a tree, limbs akimbo, panting heavily as they drew in deep breaths of cool spring air.

"Nya, Soujirou! Daijoubu?" 

"I am fine, Miyoshi. I just need to catch my breath."  

At Soujirou's words, the other boy nodded. A companionable silence ensued.

Gradually, the pounding in his heart slowed to a steady beat and the burning in his legs subsided. Soujirou turned and looked searchingly at his red-haired friend. "And you, Miyoshi, are you alright as well?"

"Nya! Daijoubu!" Miyoshi grinned widely, his lapis lazuli blue eyes sparkling with good cheer as he triumphantly brandished a small pouch. "Thanks for showing up at the perfect time! Otherwise those gangsters would have taken the money, and I wouldn't be able to pay for Otou-san's medicine. Soujirou saves the day!"

Soujirou's lips curved into a smile. "Nothing like a few well-aimed pebbles and two pairs of good legs to get us out of trouble." 

"Hoi! Hoi!" Miyoshi shouted enthusiastically, and both boys broke into fresh laughter, their bodies shaking with mirth. Yet, even as they laughed, Miyoshi and Soujirou scrupulously avoided each other's eyes, afraid to see the truth that was reflected in the depths.

Soujirou and Miyoshi knew that it was only through sheer luck that they, two defenseless six year old boys, had escaped from the group of gangsters. True, both of them had acquired a few scratches and bruises: Soujirou's knees were scraped and bleeding, while the lump at Miyoshi's left temple had swelled to the size of a goose egg; but they could have both been seriously injured, and worse, Miyoshi's hard-earned money would have been taken...    

Soujirou's eyes hardened as he glanced at Miyoshi, noting the gauntness of his body and the shadows beneath his eyes; even his trademark mop of red hair seemed to have lost its lustre. 

"Neh, Miyoshi, how is your Otou-san doing?" Soujirou asked softly.

"He is still very ill and can't even get up to sit on his bed..." Miyoshi said quietly, his eyes pensive. "Sometimes I think he's getting better, but then the next day his condition will be the same..." 

A gleam of determination came into Miyoshi's eyes as he turned to face Soujirou: "Otou-san will get better! It's just a matter of time! Then both of us will be able to perform acrobatics again, just like the old days. In the meantime, I just have to be patient and get enough money to pay for his medicine."          

_You mean work yourself to the bone,_ Soujirou thought bitterly. No one had extended a helping hand to the six year old boy. Instead, the shop owners who hired Miyoshi were only too eager to take advantage of the boy's desperation, making him work like a slave and paying him so little that Miyoshi had taken to digging for roots in the forest to feed himself in a bid to save enough money to pay for his Otou-san's next dose of medicine. More often than not, Soujirou knew, Miyoshi went without any food: he was simply too exhausted, having to take care of his father after his long day at work.

Suddenly remembering, Soujiro dug into the folds of his yukata and unearthed something wrapped in a brown cloth. "I almost forgot! Miyoshi, this is for you!"

Miyoshi stared in bafflement at the brown lump thrust into his hands, then he lifted the cloth. He gasped in surprise as he stared at the misshapen contents.

"Gomen, Miyoshi." Soujiro said in embarrassment. "It's supposed to be a bean paste bun, but it must have gotten squashed during the scuffle just now. But I am sure it tastes good."

For a moment Miyoshi was silent, then a torrent of tears flowed down his cheeks as he whispered gratefully, "Arigato, Soujirou."

Soujirou felt a sting in his own eyes, quickly masking it with a bright smile, he said lightly: "Neh, eat it already! Otherwise I would think that you don't like it or something."

Eyes widening, Miyoshi said anxiously, "Nya! Of course not, Soujirou! How can you even think that?"

"Then eat it! Don't worry, I have had my share."

Assured, Miyoshi bit into the bun carefully and slowly, savoring the sweetness of the bean paste and the almost forgotten sensation of having something filling in his stomach.

Soujirou smiled at his friend's enjoyment. _I am going to get a severe beating and probably no food for the next couple of weeks for stealing that bun, but it's worth it. I haven't seen Miyoshi so happy for a long time. Feeling the tension ease from his body, Soujirou lay on the ground and stared at the endless blue sky. _I want to get stronger. I don't want to be bullied anymore. I want to protect the people I treasure._          _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late 1980s, Tokyo, Fuji Residence

"Syusuke, I know you are not hungry, but come down for some soup at least." Yumiko stood at the doorway, her arms crossed as she tried to persuade her brother who was buried under his thick blanket.

"Sumimasen, Nee-san. I'm really tired, I just want to sleep." Fuji's voice was muffled.

After a while, Yumiko sighed and left Fuji in peace. Although her brother was just nine, he had a stubborn streak that was a mile long: she knew it was futile to try and make him change his mind.

As the bedroom door clicked shut, Fuji slowly turned onto his back and stared into the darkness, his mind running through the events that transpired earlier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurata had driven Fuji and Eiji home after Fuji regained his consciousness. Eiji, though initially worried and upset, had bounced back with amazing resilience and was chattering enthusiastically in Kurata's car.

"Nya, Fuji! You really frightened me for a while there. I was so shocked that I didn't even duck when the broken shinai came flying at me!" Unconsciously, Eiji's fingers traced the small, white plaster on his right cheek.

"Gomen, Eiji. I really don't know what happened..." Fuji's throat felt tight with guilt.

"Unnya! It's nothing! But you were really kakkoi! I can't believe you know all those moves! You are even better than the samurais that I have seen on TV! You totally thrashed Oda-san and Ashihei-san, and they are almost twice your age and twice your size!" Eiji's eyes glowed with something akin to hero-worship. "Nya! You should take up kendo, Fuji! You'll beat everyone else easily! You'll be known as the nine year old tensai!"

"I don't want to ever talk about this again, Eiji. I will not step into a dojo again." Fuji's voice was like ice.

"Nya, Fuji! Why not?" Eiji protested loudly.

"Eiji-kun, you should respect your friend's wishes." Kurata said quietly. Stealing a covert glance at Fuji's implacable profile, Kurata continued, "Eiji-kun, one must know when to push and when to stop. I think Fuji-kun is very determined, it's better if you stop pushing. Even if you try to persuade him further, your efforts will only go down the drain."

"Nya, Fuji, is what Kurata-san say true?" Seeing his friend's silent nod, Eiji sighed with disappointment. "Unnya, this is not fun."

Kurata looked briefly at Fuji again before turning his concentration back to driving. He had taught kendo for almost thirty years and he had never been as shocked and scared as he was today. Had Fuji been physically stronger and had Fuji not woken up from his apparent trance, Kurata knew without a doubt that even with all their protective dogu, Ashihei and Oda would be dead or seriously injured by now. 

On one hand it was a waste that Fuji, with his prodigious talent was not going to take up kendo. On the other hand, with his unfathomable strength, Fuji Syusuke would crush and destroy his opponents in the blink of an eye. Kurata's hands tightened on the steering wheel. Yes, perhaps it was fortuitous that Fuji had chosen not to take up kendo. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuji's eyelids drooped as fatigue finally overtook his body and he drifted into a troubled sleep...  

_Where am I?_ Fuji thought as he wondered through the unfamiliar compound. _I thought I was sleeping at home. He looked at the trees, stripped bare of their leaves, their wizened branches reaching out into the skies. __It's the wrong season. Then realization struck: _I am in a dream_. __I wonder what sort of dream this is going to be?_

There was a sudden flurry of activity as men ran towards the courtyard. _What's happening?_ For a moment, Fuji hesitated but curiosity overtook his reservations: _Maa, this is a only dream! It can't hurt me to see what's going on!_  

The courtyard was dim, illuminated only by the waning moon. The scant moonlight cast a ghastly grey sheen on everything, leaching the surroundings of their colors. The men were congregated around the courtyard, all stationary and silent. Yet that was a tension in the air, a sense of barely leashed anticipation, so acute that Fuji could taste it in his mouth: an acrid, copperish flavour. 

Then he realized that all the men were waiting to attack: each of the men had one hand resting on the saya and the other poised upon the tsuka of his katana. 

Suddenly a clear voice rang out: "Leave him with me. Go back to your duties."

The men broke into furious murmurings; several protested: "But Okita-san, he broke into here! We can't..."

"I said leave him with me." The voice was arctic. "I will answer personally to Hijikata-san."

"Okita-san..."

"Those who question me further will get a reply from my katana." The voice was devoid of any inflection, but the threat was evident.   

The men looked briefly at each other, and then emptied quickly from the courtyard, leaving two solitary figures in the centre.

Free of obstruction, Fuji could clearly discern the person who stood, facing his direction. His heart started to pound. _Eiji!_

_Iie. It's not Eiji._ Fuji corrected himself mentally. Not Eiji, but a youth, barely into his twenties, clad in all black. Yet Fuji could not deny the remarkable resemblance: the youth's hair was darker, a deep burgundy instead of Eiji's rich russet; his jaw squarer and face leaner, but the curve of his lips and the tilt of his brows were the same. And his eyes: his eyes were the deep lapis lazuli blue of Eiji's. _This is how Eiji will look like in a decade's time, Fuji thought silently._

"You shouldn't have came here." It was the cold voice again. 

It came from the figure whose back was facing Fuji. He was clad in a light blue haori; even under the pale moonlight, the white mountain-shaped stripes on his sleeves were distinct. 

The hairs on the back of Fuji's neck rose as the youth's lips twisted into a caricature of a smile.

"Oh, but I had to come, _Okita-san_." The youth drawled. "I have to pay you back for what you did to Yamanami-san."

 "Yamanami betrayed the Shinsengumi. As a result, he committed seppuku." Okita answered calmly.

"Iie! Yamanami was as honourable as a man could come. He didn't kill himself willingly! _You murdered him_, _Okita Souji_." The youth's eyes glittered with fury.

 "He ran away from the Shinsengumi and broke our laws. He knew what the outcome of his actions was going to be."

"He ran away because he couldn't take the bloodshed and violence anymore. He ran away because he was a gentle and kind person." The youth's voice broke in anguish. "He ran away because he wanted to lead a peaceful life with me!" 

"I..." Okita started.

"Did you know that we were going to leave Kyoto? That night when you captured him, I was buying the tickets for the steamship leaving here. I was so happy, so ecstatic when I got them and was running all the way back to the inn. I waited and waited for him, but he never showed up. It was only when I went searching for him in the streets that I found out what happened." Hot tears flowed as the youth screamed. "You killed the man I love, Okita Souji!"

"Miyoshi..."

"I am here to kill you tonight, Okita Souji." Miyoshi's tears had stopped.

"Miyoshi, yame! I don't want ..." 

But the choice was taken out of Okita's hands as shurikens flew in quick succession at him.

Fuji stood, transfixed as the two figures fought: it was almost like an intricate dance, with Miyoshi darting and flying about like a butterfly while Okita was like the leaves in the wind, swirling and weaving about gracefully. But it was a deadly performance as shurikens hurtled through the air, and katana flashed in the light.   

Suddenly everything became deathly still.

Miyoshi smiled slowly.

"Iie... Doushite, Miyoshi? Doushite?" Okita whispered. Miyoshi's knees gave way as he crumpled into Okita's arms. 

"Doushite? You could have easily evaded that thrust."

Miyoshi looked down at the katana that was buried in his stomach; a sliver of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. He chuckled hollowly, "I wanted to die." He stared at Okita. "The day I heard that Yamanami died, I lost all will to live. He would have wanted me to live on and be strong, but I can't. Not without him. Since Yamanami would have never allowed me to kill myself, I decided to let you kill me instead. Gomen... "

Miyoshi coughed violently as more blood welled from his mouth. Okita's head was bent as he looked at his dying friend. "Miyoshi..."

"Soujirou," Miyoshi's voice was fading into whisper as his life ebbed from his body.

Okita's jaws clenched at hearing his friend call out his childhood name.

"Soujirou, do you know that you are dying?" Miyoshi looked at his grieving friend. Okita stiffened in shock; Miyoshi smiled sadly. "You try to hide behind a smile, but I have seen the way you look at him, the yearning and suffering in your eyes...Everyday, every passing second, you die bit by bit, knowing that he can't give you what you long for. Knowing that he can't love you the way you love him." 

"Perhaps I am the luckier one, dying this way. Perhaps this is why I can't hate you even after what happened to Yamanami." The light in Miyoshi's eyes faded.

Fuji stood rooted at his spot. _Run!_ His mind screamed at him. But his legs were paralyzed.

Gently, Okita laid his friend's lifeless body onto the ground, then he lifted his head. For the first time, Fuji looked into Okita's face.

The same face, the same eyes. The same soul. Fuji was looking at himself.

"We belong to the darkness." Okita whispered.

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

*cough* I think amirynn-san and a number of people want my head to roll right now. Ano...these 3 chapters are actually background chapters, so the actual story hasn't really started. *sweatdrops* oh boy... 

Suke-san: Hoi! Bokken is a wooden sword, Shinai is made of bamboo. ^^ 

Yamanami Seisuke       (1835-1864) Gochou (Corporal) of Shinsengumi. A gentle, honest man, he was one of the earliest members; he was labeled a traitor after he escaped from the Shinsengumi. He was caught by Okita and sentenced to commit seppuku by Hijikata. 

Miyoshi Isa                   (1844-1864) Fictitious character. Childhood friend of Soujirou. His mother died when he was born and since then he and his father depended on one another, earning their living as acrobats. Separated from Soujirou when they were both eight. Both met again when they were adults. [there's more on Miyoshi and his identity, but that will come later]   

Otou-san          Father

Yukata             Cotton kimono

Katana             Samurai sword

Saya                 Sheath of Katana

Tsuka               Handle of Katana

Haori                Japanese half coat

Shuriken           Throwing blade used by Shinobi

seppuku           AKA hara-kiri. Ritual suicide developed as an integral part of the code of bushido and the discipline of the samurai warrior class.

Iie                    No

Doushite           Why


	4. Aeta

Disclaimer:  No one belongs to me! *Naze? Naze?*

A/N: AU POT story. 

*Sweatdrops* Ano, I know this update has taken a long time. I hope my very kind reviewers have not abandoned this story! Many apologies and thank you so much for your support! *cough* The pace and writing of this chapter is quite different from the previous (not so much action) - I mentioned before that the previous three formed one big prologue, so this is officially chapter 1 – Aeta (Meeting). Please stick with me!

I thank Hikaruchi-san for letting me use her name and Nekomaru in this chapter. And since Suke-san and Shieru-san have guessed correctly, I will put down the official pairings.

^_^ (Tezuka/Fuji, Oishi/Eiji).  LOL. All those speculation about the pairings... Gawd, I am predictable. Flashbacks are in italics.  

Chapter I: Aeta

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Present day, Tokyo

"Irasshaimase!" He was greeted by the discreet twinkling of bells and friendly smiles of cream uniform-clad staff as he stepped into the bookstore. He dipped his head in polite acknowledgement before removing his woolen cap and shaking it gently to remove the dusting of powdery snow. In unhurried movements, he loosened the midnight blue chenille scarf around his neck and slid off his comfortably worn gloves, letting the warmth of the surroundings penetrate into his frozen fingers.

"Are you looking for something in particular? Perhaps I may be of some help?" It was one of the staff who had greeted him when he had first entered. About eighteen, with lustrous midnight hair tightly bound into twin braids. She gave him a wide, open smile.

An answering smile curved his lips as he shook his head, "Iie. I am just looking around."

"Ah, I see." Unwilling to end the exchange just yet, the girl continued in a rush, " I am Miho. Please look around then, but feel free to approach anyone of us if you need any assistance."  

Looking at the faint blush staining the cheeks of the girl, he answered gently, "Thanks, I will." 

Watching his retreating back, Miho and her colleagues gave a collective little sigh. He really was quite beautiful, with his rich, wavy mass of burgundy red hair and deep blue eyes. When he smiled, there was a twinkle in his eyes; the easy quirk of his lips and the faint laugh lines showed that he was a person who was generous with his smiles and laughter, and yet, his eyes were tinged with the slightest trace of melancholia. Twirling her braids idly, Miho wondered what had put the sadness into his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kikumaru Eiji wandered listlessly through the endless isles of bookshelves, pausing now and then to flip through a random novel or some anthologies. Truth be told, he was not a person who particularly enjoyed reading: he had had his fill of books after slaving through high school and university. It therefore always came as a surprise to people when he told them he had a degree and was a teacher. But the light of understanding would then dawn in their eyes when they learnt that his degree was in kinesiology and that he taught physical education in his old junior high school, Seigaku. 

Some had asked why he chose to teach in Seigaku when he had had offers from several prestigious high schools, his answer was always the same: he enjoyed the interaction with younger kids and it was fate that he was teaching at Seigaku. The day he had graduated from university at twenty-two, his former coach, Ryuzaki-sensei had approached him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Kikumaru, I am retiring soon. Are you interested in taking over my position?" Staring into those familiar eyes, Eiji had felt a strange sense of homecoming. Without hesitation, he had accepted the offer. And when Ryuzaki-sensei had broken into a smile, Eiji had responded with a wide grin before impulsively engulfing the old lady in a big bear hug which had the latter chuckling and fighting for her breath at the same time.    _

_It was his fourth year of teaching at Seigaku when he met a special student: Hidetoshi Ryuushin, the twelve-year old with a deteriorating body but the heart of a dragon. It was obvious to Eiji that Ryuushin was ill even at first glance: Ryuushin was small for his age, his built resembled that of an eight year old instead of his actual twelve. There was an ochre cast to his pallor; even the whites of his eyes had started to yellow. _

_Ryuushin had kidney problems, Eiji later learnt. It started when he was nine, and he had been going for dialysis for the past three years. The first emotion that Eiji felt was pity. How difficult it must be for such a young child to have such a condition! Eiji had volunteered at hospitals before, and had witnessed the pain and suffering the patients go through. To always need to have needles and tubes being poked into your body, to not be able to run about and play happily like other carefree children..._

_After Eiji had his first tennis lesson with Ryuushin, he realized that he had been absolutely wrong. Hidetoshi Ryuushin was not a boy to deserve pity. He was a boy who commanded admiration. To watch Ryuushin play tennis was to see courage and determination displayed to its fullest. Every run, every serve, every volley, every single move that Ryuushin made was imbued with his fighting spirit. He was not physically as strong as his counterparts, but his heart and mind burnt more fiercely than any fire. Every game that Ryuushin played, he played to the fullest, with no reservation. When Ryuushin became a regular on the tennis team, no one was surprised._

_Perhaps it was because Ryuushin was so strong that everyone had forgotten how ill he really was. It was during the Kantou finals when Ryuushin was playing the final set of second singles when it happened. It had been a hard fought match, but Ryuushin had finally evened out the score. As he raised his racket to serve his set, the nausea and pain that he had been valiantly suppressing suddenly overcame him like the dark rush of a tidal wave. His world spiraled into darkness as he collapsed onto the court._

_"Ryuu!" Eiji had screamed as he pushed through the throng of shocked spectators and rushed towards his fallen student._

_The doctors had immediately performed surgery on Ryuushin, transplanting a donated kidney into the sick boy. Eiji did not know nor did he understand what happened, but somehow, Ryuushin's body violently rejected the organ. The young boy who had been fighting so desperately for his life all those years, finally lost the fight that night. At __nine pm__, Hidetoshi Ryuushin, fourteen years of age, passed away.  _

~~~~~~~~~~~

Eiji stopped and plucked a book from the shelf over his head. Staring at the glossy book in his hand, his lips trembled as he felt something twist painfully inside him. Why was he trying to lie to himself? He had not come into the bookstore because he wanted shelter from the freezing cold. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Kikumaru-Sensei, thank you for visiting an old lady on this dreary winter day. You really bring much cheer to me," Ryuushin's grandmother smiled as she watched the young man nurse his cup of green tea. "I thank you for buying me the mochi too. I always have had a weakness for sweet things."_

_"Iie, I should have paid a visit much earlier. How are you, Baa-chan?" _

_"I am well," A hint of sadness seeped into her voice, "I am as well as I can be given that Ryuu is gone." Pausing to take a small sip of tea, Ryuushin's grandmother gave a small sigh, "I can't believe he's been gone for over a year. Even now, I feel as if he's going to burst through the door and shout out a greeting. I can even hear the sounds of his tennis balls bouncing off the walls...Ryuu was always so energetic, so alive, that it's hard to imagine anything else..."_

_"Ryuu was a very special boy." Eiji said, his voice almost a whisper._

_"Yes he was," Reaching out to touch his head, Ryuushin's grandmother said gently, "And you, are a special person as well, Kikumaru-Sensei." Staring into Eiji's widened blue eyes, she continued, "Ryuu always told me that he was so happy at Seigaku because you were there. You gave him so much help and support, and most of all, you always believed in him. He told me that you were more than his Sensei. You were like the elder brother that he never had." _

_Then, Ryuushin's grandmother had taken out a book and placed it in front of Eiji. "He wanted you to have this, you know."_

_"Gomene. I can't take it," There was grief in Eiji's voice as he replied hoarsely, "I can't." _

~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, Eiji had left Ryuushin's grandmother without taking the book. Yet now he was in the bookstore, barely five hours since he left the old lady. He had come because he wanted to see the book in his hand again. Ryuushin's favourite storybook. 

~~~~~~~~~~~__

_"Nee, Kikumaru-Sensei. I love this book. You have to read it." Ryuushin had literally shoved the thick volume into his face._

_"Nya, Nekomaru by Hikaruchi?" Eiji lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he glance at the cover, "Ryuu, I never thought you'll be the type to like fairytales."_

_"Hn. It's not just any fairytale, Sensei! It's a fantastic book," Ryuushin's face was serious, "It made me feel and realize things that I haven't known before."_

_That evening when he reached home, Eiji had taken a shower and gobbled down some maguro sushi before he started reading the book. It was the first time that Kikumaru Eiji finished a book at one sitting without nodding off to sleep. When he finally closed the book, the red digits on his clock showed that it was __three am__. Flopping onto his bed and staring at the ceiling, he knew why Ryuushin had loved the book. The main character was a little boy whose parents was killed and he in turn, was transformed into a cat. Though he went through many trial and tribulations, and almost died in his journeys, he never gave up hope nor the will to live and was finally reunited with his grandmother. _

_When Eiji returned the book to Ryuushin, the latter had looked at him with solemn eyes, "I feel like Nekomaru, Kikumaru-Sensei. My parents died when I was four, I don't really have any other relatives except my grandmother." _

_A rueful smile touched Ryuushin's lips as he continued, "Sometimes, I feel so tired of fighting so hard, of enduring the pain all the time. It'll be easier for me to just give up. Then I think of Nekomaru, of how he remained optimistic even during the worse of times and I'll tell myself to continue fighting because I have people whom I care about. Like my grandmother, and my friends here in Seigaku."  _

_Eiji had swung an arm over the boy and said companionably, "Nya! Don't forget about your favourite Sensei too!" And the two of them had burst into laughter._

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ryuu..." Eiji whispered through clenched teeth as the unbearable weight of his memories set crushingly upon on his chest. Squeezing his burning eyes shut, Eiji's head bent forward as his right hand clutched reflexively at the left of his chest, fingers digging through the layers of fleece and wool. 

"Ano, daijoubu?" At the sudden sound of another's voice, Eiji's eyes flickered open in surprise.

"Daijoubu? You don't look well." For a moment, Eiji's mind was a blank. He could not discern what the person was saying, the only thing that registered in his mind was that the person had a very nice voice. Gentle, smooth, and warm. The person had a voice like a summer's breeze.

"Perhaps you should sit down," Slowly, Eiji became aware that he was hunched against a tall shelf and that the person with the soothing voice was standing close to him, one hand lightly resting on the small of his back and the other clasping Eiji's elbows as though supporting him. Eiji blinked, and this time the person's face came into focus.

_His face is just like his voice._ Eiji thought, almost idiosyncratically. A kind, gentle face, framed by a pair of olive green eyes slightly darkened with concern. His long, lightly arched brows were lightly knitted together, marring his forehead with a small frown. Eiji's nostrils flared lightly as he inhaled the woodsy scent of the cologne that the man was wearing. 

"Do you want to sit down somewhere?" The man repeated softly.

"Ii...iie. I am alright." Eiji straightened himself as he shook his head. The man nodded and removed his hold on Eiji, and for a second, something in Eiji protested against the loss of that comforting pressure at the small of his back and arms. Eiji smiled, "Arigatou."

" Iie. I was just walking by and then I saw you." _You looked as if you were in so much pain._ The words were unspoken, but Eiji could tell them from the man's eyes. 

"Arigatou. I am feeling fine now, I appreciate your concern." 

"Ah," The man nodded once again and then his eyes strayed to the book that was still tightly gripped in Eiji's hand, "May I?"

Eiji hesitated, but when the man stared once more into his eyes, he found himself wordlessly handing the book to the man. For a while, there was silence save for the sounds of pages been flipped. Finally, the man looked up and spoke, "Ah, Nekomaru. It's not the most cheerful of tales, but I have always thought of it as inspiring. But somehow, it has caused you pain."

There was compassion in his eyes, "Doushite?" 

Eiji opened his mouth, but no words came out. _I can't say it, not like that_, Eiji tried to tell him with his eyes.

"Souka," The man said softly, before smiling at Eiji, " I understand." 

Then he scratched the back of his head almost apologetically, his cheeks slightly flushed, "Sumimasen. I've been intrusive. I am not usually like this, I don't know what came over me today. I'll take my leave now."    

Pressing the book back into Eiji's hands, their fingers lightly brushed before the man gave a polite bow and left. 

_Matte! I didn't get your name! _Eiji wanted to shout. But the words were frozen at the tip of his tongue as he stood immobilized. _How will I meet you again?_

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Yikes! I know this is long! Gomene! Also I know that's no Fuji at all! *cough* Eiji took up much more writing that I expected. Eiji is now 29 years old. Next chapter will be Fuji-centric as we go to Shirakawa Village. Please review! Your reviews are the source of my inspiration and motivation!

Irasshaimase     Welcome

Daijoubu          Are you alright

Doushite           Why

Iie                    No

Souka              I see

Matte               Wait

Baa-chan          Granny


	5. Shirakawa

Disclaimer:  No one belongs to me! (fate is cruel)

A/N: AU POT story.

Thank you Cheeseburger of Doom, Jamoozalee, Ikyutakei, Arielle5, tezuka eiri, Suke-san, featherlight and LexaRose! You've all been so kind, I am very grateful for your support! (gives deep bow of appreciation)

Long chapter, and maybe not very action oriented. But this is necessary for the development of the story, please stick with me! (kowtows)

Chapter II: Shirakawa

...........................................

Shirakawa Village, Present Day

He kneeled there, unmoving; a solitary figure amidst the swirling snow as the arctic wind whipped relentlessly at him. The biting cold had stung his unprotected face initially, but the throbbing pain had segued into blissful numbness. He reached out then, his gloved fingers slowly, almost lovingly, tracing the surface of the ice-encrusted stone marker. There was nothing distinctive about the stone marker: perhaps a foot high or so, its smoky-grey surface smoothened by the passage of time.   
  
"Ohisashiburidesu ne," Fuji whispered softly, "Aya nee-san."

......................

Shirakawa Village, 1852

"Soujirou, what are you doing?"  
  
"Eh?" The eight year boy jumped guiltily at the sound of her voice. Quickly hiding his hands behind his back, he turned to greet her with infectious cheer, "Ohayou, Aya-nee-san!"  
  
Ayame found herself smiling back before she caught herself abruptly. Narrowing her eyes in consternation, she repeated, "Soujirou Harumasa, what are you doing? And don't try to distract me with your smile again!"  
  
"Eh, what was I doing?" Opening his azure blue eyes and giving her a look of affected innocence, Soujirou smiled beguilingly, "Nothing, Aya-nee-san. I was just standing around admiring the autumn scenery."  
  
"Soujirou." Ayame crossed her arms in front of her as she waited for his confession.   
  
"Really! I was just quietly admiring the scenery," Drawing his delicate brows in mild reproach, Soujirou continued, "then you gave me a huge shock when you shouted my name."   
  
Ayame remained silent, fingers tapping as she stared pointedly at him.   
  
Giving a small sigh of defeat, Soujirou extended his hand.   
  
"Grains? What are you doing with grains?" Ayame asked in bafflement; then she frowned with worry, "Soujirou, you better be careful. If you get caught, you'll be beaten up again."  
  
"Daijoubu, this is my own share. I have been cooking less of my allocated grains and saving them up. Here, let me show you something." Gently tugging at Ayame's hand, Soujirou led her to the side of the tree that he had been leaning against and reached into a hole in the trunk.   
  
"Soujirou, what..."The words died upon her lips when she saw what was cradled in his palms.   
  
It was a bird, barely a few weeks old, with feathers the color of sun-ripened wheat; it chirped merrily as it fluttered its wings.   
  
Soujirou smiled fondly as he gently stroked the soft, downy feathers, "I found it on the ground with its left wing broken. It must have gotten injured and separated from its family. I made a splint for its wing; it's getting stronger now. In a couple of weeks or so, before winter arrives, it should be able to fly again and look for its family."   
  
Ayame shook her head, "Soujirou, you are a bag of bones, and here you are scrimping off your meals. If you were found out, they'll punish you for keeping an animal around and even use it an excuse to cut the meager amount of food that you have now," Giving a small sigh, she wagged a finger in mock admonishment, "You've always cared more for others than yourself. It's time you..." Her words were interrupted by a fit of coughing.

The small smile on Soujirou's face faded. His eyes were troubled as he observed the gauntness of her body and the ochre pallor of her skin. Carefully, he placed the bird back into the hollow before turning to her. "You shouldn't be worrying about me, Aya-nee. When are you going to see a doctor?"   
  
Looking away from the worry-darkened gaze, Ayame prevaricated, "I am fine, I'm just coughing more than usual because of the recent changes in weather. I'll just take more herbs and I'll be back to normal in no time."   
  
"You've been coughing for months, Aya-nee," Soujirou's voice was quiet, "I've seen the blood on your pillow..." His voice became insistent, "You have to see a doctor. I can come along with you if you..."   
  
"Iie, I don't want to go outside..." Unconsciously, her fingers covered her cheeks. Her lips quivered as she continued, "I can't..."  
  
"Aya-nee-san, your face...it doesn't matter. If anyone dare says anything, I'll...I'll hit them!" Soujirou's voice was fierce, his fingers curled into a fist.   
  
"It's not what they say...it's...it's the look in their eyes," _The revulsion; the scorn._ "I really don't want to frighten the little children..." _I don't want them to scream and run away from me._  
  
"Aya-nee, your sickness..." Soujirou pleaded, "You have to see a doctor, otherwise it'll only worsen! Your symptoms are just like Miyoshi's otou-san's!"   
  
"Please, Soujirou," Her face was white, her breathing harsh; but her eyes were set, "please don't talk about this anymore. I will not be going."   
  
"Aya-nee," Soujirou felt a hollow despair welling up his throat as he buried his face against the folds of her kimono, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. _You are going to leave me._

"Daijoubu, Soujirou. Everything's going to be alright. Believe me." Ayame smiled as she stroked the little boy's head soothingly.

 Lowering his lids to once more conceal the blue of his eyes, Soujirou nodded even as he tightened his grip on the older girl.

......................

Soujirou lay on the ground, one arm cushioning his the back of his head, staring at the cloudy sky. It was one of those rare days when he could actually take a breather; invariably, he would come to the same spot: a sanctuary to get a moment's respite without the fear of being disturbed or discovered by anyone. It was a little clearing, hidden by sharp-edged rocks and gnarly bushes, discovered during one of his many escapades with Miyoshi.  

_We used to have so much fun! We would pretend that this was our fortress, we would play-fight with branches and spend hours just staring at the clouds._ Soujirou closed his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could still hear the phantom laughter of his best friend.

_"Neh, Miyoshi, I think that cloud looks exactly like you." Soujirou smiled as he pointed at the sky._

_"Nya, that white fluffy one?" Miyoshi stroked his chin in deep contemplation as he stared at the cloud, " Unnya, it doesn't! Looks as if it has pointy ears...I even spot a tail. Nya! It looks like..."_

_"A neko?" Soujirou supplied slyly._

_"Exactly! A neko!" Miyoshi exclaimed, clapping his hands in agreement. A few seconds later, his eyes narrowed as he stared at his friend whose face was suspiciously straight, "Chotto! You said the cloud looked like me earlier."_

_Soujirou's face split into a wide grin._

_"Unnya! Are you saying I am like a neko?" Miyoshi pouted as he jabbed a finger at his friend. "Nya! Take that back, Soujirou, or I'll...I'll..." _

_Soujirou's response to Miyoshi's threat was to smirk even more widely, "You'll what, neko? Meow?"  _

_"Nya, I'll do this!" Miyoshi launched into his most fearsome attack – tickling; Soujirou responded in kind, and both boys were reduced to fits of laughter. _

But Miyoshi was gone. Two summers ago, Miyoshi's father had succumbed to his debilitating illness. A few days after his burial, Miyoshi's uncle had arrived to take the boy away. Miyoshi had promised to keep in touch.

_"I'll write to you as soon as I am settled down, Soujirou. Just wait for my letters!" Miyoshi's eyes, abnormally large on his grief-stricken face, had been bright with unshed tears._

Soujirou had waited. But the days trickled into weeks, and the weeks into months. It had been more than two years, but he never received a letter. He never received even a word about Miyoshi, it was almost as if his best friend had vanished from the surface of the earth. _Where are ..._

"Teme! How dare that bastard lay his hands on us!" Loud cursing shattered Soujirou's reverie.

"I can't believe the four of us were no match for him. Damn him! I think he broke my teeth!" There was a loud spitting sound.

"My guts hurt like hell! We didn't even get a single mon from him!" 

Soujirou stiffened, he recognized their voices: they were the same men who used to beat up Miyoshi for money.

"Well, he's going straight to hell for what he did to us!" At that remark, the men broke into raucous laughter.

"That ahou! He still dared to ask us for directions after beating us up! The way to the village square, he asked! Well, I gave him the way alright! I just didn't mention that there's a whole stretch of quicksand on the way. He and that big wooden box of his can sink right down to the pits of hell!"

Soujirou's heart pounded as the voices and footsteps faded away. _They are sending a man to his death!_ _I have to try and stop him before he drowns!_

......................

_Kami-sama, please let me be in time! _Soujirou prayed silently as he weaved frantically through the forest, his legs pounding against the uneven ground strewn with fallen leaves and branches. _Where are you?_ There was a sour taste of frustration in his mouth and gnawing fear in the pit of his stomach as his eyes encountered nothing but seemingly endless miles of bare, grizzled trees.   
  
His footsteps slowed as the stretch of quicksand came into sight. He scanned his eyes around, but there was no sign of life. Even the mournful cries of ravens and the incessant buzzing of the cicadas have faded into silence. His remaining strength fleeing from his body, Soujirou sank to his knees, panting harshly as he forced oxygen into his starved lungs. Almost immediately, he was seized by a paroxysm of coughing as the cold sharp air assaulted his parched throat.

As his coughing gradually subsided, Soujirou became aware that he was no longer alone. The person had not made a sound, but Soujirou could sense his presence. The fine hairs on the nape of his neck stood as he felt the weight of the person's scrutiny upon him.

"Who's out there? You should show yourself." Despite his quickening pulse, Soujirou spoke unhurriedly, almost calmly.

"You were following me. Why?" There was no inflection in the voice: so devoid of emotion that the question could have been a statement. Yet, there was an indefinable richness to it: deep, with a dark, resonant timbre that stirred an unnamed emotion within Soujirou.

Soujirou turned in the direction of the voice and found a youth, perhaps seventeen or eighteen of age, standing before him. His breath hitched as he fully registered the impact of the youth's visage. _He's beautiful._ Hair the color of burnished mahogany; an almost ascetic face framed by hazel eyes that appear at once amber, at once jade in the afternoon light. His skin gilded by the rays of the sun, was touched with the sheen of gold and copper. _He's beautiful, like a god. And just as cold and untouchable,_ thought Soujirou silently as he stared into the expressionless face and implacable eyes.

"You were following me. Why?"

From the corner of his eyes, Soujirou could see a wooden box next to one of the trees. _I am in time after all!_ Soujirou allowed himself a silent sigh of relief. "I heard a group of local gangsters talking. They were beaten up by someone whom they had tried to extort money from. In retaliation, the directions to the village they gave were so that he would unknowingly go through the area of quicksand." Opening his azure eyes fully, Soujirou stared back at the youth, "I believe you are the person whom they were talking about. I came after you to warn you about the danger.""You ran all the way here to warn an absolute stranger." The youth's eyes were unreadable and his tone remained unchanged, yet, Soujirou could sense that the youth did not believe a word he had said.

"Yes. I ran here as quickly as I could. I was afraid that I would be too late, and that..."

"What do you want from me?" The youth coolly interrupted Soujirou in mid-explanation.

"What?" For a moment, Soujirou was confused.

"I trust a few mons would be sufficient." The youth dug into his slate-colored yukata and took out the coins.

Confusion morphed into anger as Soujirou stared at the handful of coins held in front of his face, "I don't want your stinking coins!" He moved to push the offending hand away from his line of vision when strong fingers snaked around his throat.

"I despise liars." The youth said calmly as he flexed his fingers, tightening his grip around Soujirou's throat, "How much are they paying you to follow me?"

"I came to warn you, bastard!" Soujirou was furious, "I didn't want you to drown!"

The fingers pressed further into his throat, stopping the flow of air. Soujirou clawed desperately at the youth's hand as his vision turned white. Hot tears spilled from the corners of his eyes, "Please...the quicksand...I didn't want you to drown."

The grip loosened abruptly. Soujirou collapsed onto the ground like a broken marionette, harsh sobs wrecking his body as he curled into a fetal position.

"Why do you care?" The youth bent and kneeled down as he stared at Soujirou. "Why expose yourself to unnecessary danger?"

"I saw it drown." Soujirou's eyes were wide and unblinking, "A year ago. A fawn...it was trying so desperately to escape from hunters that it ran right into the stretch of quicksand. Its cries...they went on and on until it was finally swallowed by the sands." Shuddering with remembered horror, Soujirou closed his eyes, "It was a horrible death. I do not wish the same fate to befall on anyone."

He didn't know how long they remained there, him curled on the ground and the youth sitting in silence beside him: only that his tears had eventually stopped and the warm wetness on his cheeks had disappeared.

"There are scratches on your face." Soujirou's eyes flickered open at the unexpected remark.

Tracing the reddened lines on his face, Soujirou grimaced, "I must have gotten scratched by branches when I was running here..."

"Here." Soujirou stared at the small white packet held before him, and then at the youth. He made no movements to receive the offering.

"It's medicine. An old formula handed down in my family. Follow the instructions to prepare it and put it on your scratches. It will reduce the swelling and alleviate the pain."   
  
"I don't need..."Soujirou started.

"Hn. You probably don't need it for your face, but the rest of you..."The youth's eyes were dispassionate as he noted the inordinate number of bruises and scratches on Soujirou's arms and legs, "When you get another beating at home, you'll find this useful."

With a flash of insight, Soujirou realized that this was probably as close to an apology he was going to get from the youth. Unbidden, his lips crept upwards as he said wryly, "I'll accept this then." _I'll accept your peace-offering._

Something akin to amusement moved in the youth's eyes as he stood up to leave, "What is your name?"

"Soujirou. Soujirou Harumasa." Soujirou replied bemusedly as he watched the youth walked to the tree where his wooden box was located. With an easy, fluid movement, he hoisted the wooden box over his shoulders.

"I am Hijikata. Hijikata Toshizou." Turning to face Soujirou, Hijikata continued, "I thank you for your warning, Soujirou, although it was not necessary in the first place."

"What?" Soujirou was nonplussed.

"I always do my research. I know this is a quicksand area." At the look of disbelief on Soujirou's face, Hijikata lifted an eye-brow, "You will find that the element of surprise is always invaluable. If they had known that I was going straight to the village, they would no doubt have gotten the rest of their gang to come after me. I can deal with them of course, but I really do not want to create a ruckus when I am in a new place. I doubt the villagers will welcome me with open arms if that happened."

"Furthermore," Hijikata continued, "since they think I've met with a tragic end, when they do meet me again, they will be shocked. They might regroup, but plans made in haste are seldom perfect. This gives me the upper hand should there be more confrontations."

Turning around so that his back faced Soujirou once more, Hijikata's tone was reflective. "However, I didn't plan for you to appear." Tilting his head, he bade his farewell, "Sayonara, Soujirou."

......................

He was bored, so incredibly, suffocatingly bored. Downing yet another cup of heated sake, he stared out of the window, his face twisted with loathing at the rustic scenery before him. He hated to be back home, back to the rural backwaters of Shirakawa, back to face his old hag of a mother who just wouldn't die and relinquish her position as head of the Shirakawa clan, and back to face his virago of a wife whose sole purpose in life was to deny him of his little pleasures.

_Speaking of little pleasures..._his eyes drooped heavily as he thought of the past few weeks he had spent at Edo. Oh, he had fun. There was a splendor about Edo. The allure of bright lights, the smoky haze of sake fumes and mood-enhancing drugs, and the veritable trove of debauchery available for the discerning palate. He had always loved beautiful things. He loved to possess them, to use them and to break them. _And there had been so many beautiful young things in Edo_, he thought as a shiver of pleasure ran through his body. Even now, he could hear their desperate cries, could feel their hearts fluttering like frightened birds, could feel their young bodies writhing and struggling underneath him...

There was a sound of knocking. "Who is it?" He snapped.

"Shirakawa-san, you asked for more sake and some sweetmeats. They are here." It was one of the servants.

"Just leave the damn things and get out of here." The shoji screen slid open, and the boy came in with the heavy tray of food and wine. Shirakawa Anzu felt his tongue curled in dislike as he watched the skinny boy place the food on the table. _Soujirou._ Anzu had never liked the boy, with his skinny frame and dirty, matted brown locks. More than that, the boy never cried even when he was beaten badly: there was a perpetual half smile on his face and his eyes were always closed. His behavior robbed Anzu the pleasure of hitting him.

Soujirou was efficient. Within a minute, the shoji screen slid close once more, and the boy was gone.

With a grunt of patent displeasure, Anzu started to pour himself another cup of sake when he heard a cheerful chirping at his window.

"Well, well...what do we have here?" It was a bird, trilling its happy song as it settled trustingly on the man's open palm. For a moment, Anzu regarded the bird in silence, before his attention was caught by the two figures talking below.

_Ayame._ A look of revulsion came over his face as he regarded the girl talking to Soujirou.

Once she had been beautiful, like delicate sakura petals, soft and flushed with pink. Oh yes, she had been a beautiful, and very feisty ten year old girl. He remembered how he had trapped her in his room, how she had screamed and fought as he pushed her to the floor and tore at her yukata,...It was just too bad that his wife had interrupted them before he had taken the girl. In fury, she had poured the scalding pot of hot tea on the table all over Ayame's face...

Anzu spat. That was his wife. Always robbing him of his fun at the wrong time. _Couldn't she have waited till he was done with the girl before she poured the tea?_ He had had no satisfaction that night, and instead earned a tongue lashing from his mother. For some twisted reason, his mother had allowed Ayame to continue to stay with the Shirakawa clan. If it were left to him, he would have kicked her out of the village.

Suddenly he heard a twinkling laugh. Narrowing his eyes, he stared, almost mesmerized, at Soujirou. He had never seen Soujirou laughed before, never seen the teasing way he tilted his head to one side and never seen the flash of small white teeth. Most of all, he had never seen Soujirou's eyes as they were now, wide open and impossibly blue, alit with joy.

Unconsciously, Anzu licked his lips. He could see it now...those blue eyes widened into terror, darkened with fear. That mouth of Soujirou, he could imagine several delightful uses for it. And he knew Soujirou would fight. That would make things much more pleasurable for him. _Oh yes_, Anzu thought breathlessly, his fingers clenching together as he felt himself hardened with desire, _I believe he would be quite entertaining_.

He was suddenly aware that there was something in his hand, "I forgot about this. Must have broken its neck."

With mild disgust, he flung the lifeless bird onto the floor. Wiping his hands, Anzu hummed as he devoured the sweetmeats.

A mild breeze blew, ruffling the wheat-colored feathers of the bird. It would never sing again. Nor would it ever find its family.

...........................................

Nya, it was rather long wasn't it? Yikes (hides from rotten eggs and tomatoes) Gomene! If it seems that I have introduced too many new characters, rest assured that most of them are somewhat linked – this means that Ayame is not a Mary Sue. Please be patient with me.

Ohisashiburidesu           Japanese greeting, loosely it means: it's been a long time

neko                             cat

mon                              19th century Japanese coinage


	6. Tokyo

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. Duh...

A/N: AU POT story.

Thank you featherlight, Ikyutakei, Jamoozalee, Cheeseburger of Doom, Posterior Praiser, Suke-san, Tezuka Eiri, and Vanilla Fox-san. Wah! I thank you for spending your time to read my story and, and...so kind for giving me reviews! They make me so happy...(sob)

This is a relatively short chapter as compared to the previous one (yes, I can actually write short chappies, LOL). It's to set the stage for the rest of the story. Some Oishi/Eiji and then...Yuuta appears?

Chapter III: Tokyo

...........................................

Tokyo, Present Day: Tokyo General Hospital

"Moshi, moshi. Delivery for Kikumaru Reika–san."

Reika lifted bleary eyes from the thick stack of patient records and glanced up. Her eyes immediately brightened with surprise as her brother's smiling face greeted her, "Eiji! What are you doing here?"

"Kikumaru Eiji speedy delivery service." Eiji grinned and lifted the bundled package in his left hand, "Heard that you have to work an extra shift today, so Kaa-san made some onigiri and soup. There are also some fresh clothes for you." Lifting an eyebrow, Eiji winked conspiratorially, "Plus, I got some daifuku for you from the confectionary."

At Reika's gasp of delight, Eiji thumped his chest and assumed a preening posture, "Nya, don't you have a wonderful otouto?"

"The best!" Reika proclaimed as she hugged Eiji impulsively.

"Woah! No monkey action with sexy visitors allowed in the hospital!"

At the warning, Reika turned and found her colleague, Susume, staring at her with mock severity. Reika's face split into a grin as she stretched and draped one arm over the much taller Eiji's shoulder, "Susume-chan, meet Eiji-kun, my very delectable otouto. As you can see, good looks run in the family."

"Nee-san!" Eiji felt a dull heat spread across his face as his sister chuckled evilly and Susume swept an appreciative eye over him.

"Definitely a sight for a pair of sore eyes," Susume smiled, "however, I must say that your otouto is far prettier than you are."

"Ch! See if I'll share my food with you!" Reika stuck a playful tongue at Susume, before turning to Eiji and leading him out of the room, "Come. I'll walk you out. Susume and I only have another hour before we start out next shift, so we can't dally around too much."

"Do come back and visit us, the lonely nurses, Eiji-kun. Perhaps I'll take your temperature next time." Susume half shouted at their retreating backs.

"Tell me who's the older sibling here." Eiji remarked tolerantly as he glanced at Reika, who was shaking with silent laughter.

"Hey, it's not my fault that she finds you hot! Furthermore..." Her sentence was left unfinished as the incongruous sounds of breathless giggling and excited chattering filled the air.

"What's happening?" Eiji was puzzled.

"Come with me!" They rounded the corner and found the source of the cacophony. A group of ladies had surrounded a man, presumably a doctor, judging from his white-clad back, and were gesturing and talking in tones that were pitched several octaves higher than was normal.

"Why are they behaving this way? He's a doctor isn't he?" Eiji asked in bemusement, "It's as if they were members of his fan club or something."

"Oh, but they are." Reika laughed at the look of incredulity on Eiji's face. "They are "members" of the Oishi Syuichiro fan club."

"He's a doctor?" Eiji's brows were knitted as he peered at his sister, wondering if she were joking with him.

"Not just a doctor! He's Oishi sensei, star pediatrician. Intelligent, patient, kind, humorous, good looking and," Reika wriggled her eyebrows lasciviously, "his butt is seriously cute when it's not covered by his hospital coat."

"Nee-san!" Eiji exclaimed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

"What? I am engaged, but I am not blind!" Reika retorted, before she frowned as she surveyed the scene, "He was up the whole of last night. One of the patients had an unexpected complication during surgery. He must be dead tired but he's too nice to chase them away. Well, it's Nurse Kikumaru to the rescue."

"Oishi sensei! Nishikawa-kun in ward eighty-three needs your attention immediately!" Reika announced as she burrowed efficiently through the perfumed ladies.

"Hai. I will come with you right away. Please excuse me, ladies." Oishi turned around as he smiled apologetically at the disappointed faces.

As Reika and Oishi got out of the sight of the noisy group, Oishi paused and said curiously, "Ano, Kikumaru-san. There is no ward eighty-three."

Reika's response was a beaming smile. Oishi laughed, "I was beginning to get desperate there. Thanks for helping me."

Had she not been watching his face, she would have missed the moment when Oishi froze and his eyes suddenly widened, then darkened imperceptibly. He was looking straight ahead, his lips lightly parted, drawing shallow breaths; there was something in his eyes: not so much as shock or astonishment, but an awareness, heavy, and almost intimate.

_Who or what can possibly induce this sort of reaction from Oishi sensei?_ Reika turned to the direction of his gaze and barely stifled a gasp of surprise. _Eiji?_

It was almost like staring at a reflection of Oishi. Eiji was as still as a statue, his face pale like cool marble. His pupils, were dilated, making his lapis eyes appeared almost midnight blue; there too, was awareness in his darkened gaze, but there was another emotion as well. An emotion that made his face almost vulnerable.

Then it was gone. All that remained was friendly interest in Eiji's eyes as he smiled, "What a pleasant surprise to meet you again. I am Kikumaru Eiji, Reika's otouto."

"Ah, it's good to meet you again as well. I am Oishi Syuichiro." Oishi bowed, his tone light and amiable.

Reika bit the inside of her cheeks as she regarded the easy, smiling faces of the two men that stood before her. _She couldn't have imagined what she had seen could she?_ "Ano, both of you have met before?" She asked curiously.

She sensed, rather than saw the hesitation before Eiji replied, "A couple of weeks ago. In a bookstore."

"In a bookstore? You never go to bookstores, Eiji. You absolutely detest reading," Then understanding crept into her eyes, "Eiji, is this about Ryu..."

"I just wanted to get out of the cold that day and I just happened to be walking past the bookstore." Eiji interrupted.

Undeterred, Reika turned to Oishi, "Oishi sensei..."

"Ah, I went there after work and was just looking around. Kikumaru-san was holding a book that looked interesting and I asked to have a look." Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, he continued, "I must have disrupted his browsing, and I can't even remember the title now."

"Nee-san, I think you should go and have a break before your shift starts again. You only have about forty minutes left." Eiji advised gently. For a moment, Reika looked as if she wanted to protest. Then she nodded and bade a polite farewell to both men.

"Arigatou." Eiji said quietly.

Chuckling lightly, Oishi stared at the tips of his shoes. "I don't usually tell lies, but somehow, I didn't think you would feel comfortable about..." There was a light pressure on his arm and Oishi looked up, startled.

"Would you have a drink with me? I want to thank you properly." Eiji's voice was non-committal, but there was a heat in his eyes that made Oishi light-headed.

"Tonight at eight. Tsukiya. It's a block away from the bookstore."

Eiji nodded, "I'll be there."

......................

Tokyo, Present Day: Shikai Gallery

Save for the sounds of their breathing, the place was completely silent as they studied the photographs. When he finally looked up after staring for an inordinate amount of time at the last piece of work, he found his nee-san smiling at him as she handed him a glass of drink. It was then he realized how thirsty he was. Tipping the glass, his eyebrows quirked before he downed the amber liquid, feeling its heat trailed down his throat and spread into his veins.

Yumiko chuckled as she regarded her otouto over the rim of her glass, "I thought we both needed something strong."

"Ah." He nodded before turning his attention to the photographs.

"They are stunning aren't they? I almost stopped breathing when I was looking at them." Taking a slow sip, Yumiko swirled the brandy in her mouth, savoring its rich, silky smoothness. "Syusuke has outdone himself."

"Hn, that's an understatement." Yuuta said wryly. Even now, he could feel the constriction in his chest. "I don't know how he did it. I have been to all these places in Tokyo. I have always appreciated them on an aesthetic, historical and maybe even an emotional level, but these photographs..."

"He stripped them bare." Yumiko said softly. Stripped of human life, stripped of their grandeur, and stripped of their illusions, until all but a raw and seething cauldron of emotions remained: sadness, anger, bitter-sweetness, ecstasy, agony, longing, despair...

There was another moment of silence before Yuuta sighed as he ran his fingers through his cropped hair, "I supposed I should be prepared for the barrage of questioning when these finally go on exhibition."

Yumiko's laugh was like a twinkling bell, "I think you may need to go hiding somewhere. They will want to know who the mysterious Haru is. Remember what happened four years ago?"

"It was a nightmare." Yuuta shuddered with remembrance. Four years ago, Fuji had agreed to display his works on Kyoto under the name of Haru. The exhibition had generated a frenzy of interest and the entire series was sold despite the photographer's identity being completely unknown. Fans and reporters had dogged Yuuta's every step for information on Haru.

There was humor in Yumiko's eyes, "You'll also have to placate the egos of other photographers whom you handle exhibitions for."

"Echizen and Atobe have enough self-belief to fuel the sun. Aoi will be excited since he's a big fan of Aniki's works. It's Mizuki Hajime who's going to be really upset." Yuuta groaned at the thought of another of Mizuki's tempestuous tantrums, "I am sure that he'll think that I am hiding Haru's identity just to generate publicity. Mizuki-san loves basking under the limelight. The idea of anyone hiding from fame and glory is completely alien to him I am afraid."

Yumiko strolled towards the window. Leaning her face against the cool panes, she stared at the glowing lights amidst the darkening city. After some time, Yuuta stood beside her as well.

Both of them knew that Fuji would never show up for any of his exhibitions nor would he ever want his identity to be revealed. It was the same reason he never took a second look at his photographs once they were developed.

"It's Aniki's soul in the photographs. He would have destroyed all of them if we have not begged him." Yuuta's lips twisted with pain as he whispered, his breath misting the glass. "Are we doing the right thing?"

"Wakaranai, Yuuta." Yumiko closed her eyes. "Wakaranai."

...........................................

daifuku traditional chewy rice cake

otouto younger brother

wakaranai "I don't know."


	7. Ainote

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. Sob...Fujiiiiiiiiiiiiii

I thank my lovely reviewers: KagomeGirl21, Nekocin, Tora Macaw, Suke-san, tezuka eiri, Posterior Praiser, Arielle5, featherlight, Vanilla Fox, Cheeseburger of Doomwithout whom this will not be possible. kowtows to your kindness

A/N: AU POT story. Bridging chapter, short but necessary. Tezuka eiri-san, your namesake appears...well sort of.

* * *

Ainote (Interlude)

**Juntoku In**

Momoshiki ya  
Furuki nokiba no  
Shinobu ni mo  
Nao amari aru  
Mukashi nari keri

**Emperor Juntoku**

In this ancient house,  
Paved with a hundred stones,  
Ferns grow in the eaves;  
But numerous as they are,  
My old memories are more.

_Shirakawa Village, 1852_

"Otanjoubi Omedetou, Soujirou!" There was a wide grin on Ayame's face as Soujirou stood dumbfounded at the doorway. Reaching out to tug at the boy's hand, Ayame exclaimed, "Come on, stop standing there like a statue and get in!"

"Aya-nee-san?" Fuji said softly as he blinked his eyes, once, twice.

"Your eyes are not playing a trick on you, Soujirou!" Ayame hummed happily as she poured him hot tea. "I got Surei-san to help me buy these bean paste buns and candy," She grabbed hold of a bun and shoved it into Soujirou's mouth, "Come on, stop staring and start eating!"

"Hai!" Soujirou closed his eyes with pleasure as sweetness flooded his mouth, "Mmm...oishi!" His eyes flickered open as he smiled, "Arigatou, Aya-nee-san!"

"You've always have had a sweet tooth. But there's something else for you!" Thrusting a package into his arms, Ayame clapped her hands, "Hora! It's your birthday present. Open it!"

"It's beautiful," Soujirou whispered as he stared at the light blue yukata before rubbing the cloth against his face, "and it's so soft!"

"I barely finished making it on time. Try it on, Soujirou!" Soujirou nodded and slid on the yukata. Ayame smiled tenderly as she regarded him, "It fits just right, Soujirou."

Soujirou grinned as he chewed on a candy, "That's because I have grown!"

"Hn...you're still too skinny." Ayame's eyes were soft, "Ne, Soujirou, are you enjoying your birthday?"

"Of course! It's a wonderful surprise! I didn't think anyone would have remembered..." Soujirou leaned back, his palms resting lightly on the floor as he stared at the candlelight, "I'm really happy. You've gotten me all these food and a wonderful present, but most of all," his eyes returned to her face, "I am happy that Aya-nee-san is here with me."

Lifting another bun from the plate, he took a big bite as he continued dreamily, "Remember the bird I was taking care of? It's gone. I am sure it's flying happily in the endless skies with its family, free like the wind. One day, Aya-nee-san, we'll be like the bird. Both of us, we'll be free from the oppression of this household and be free to pursue our dreams."

"Soujirou," Ayame started when someone slid open the door, her eyes widened in surprise, "Surei-san, what's the matter?"

The cook smiled apologetically, "Suimasen, I know you are having a birthday celebration, but Shirakawa-san wants food and sake to be delivered to him right now. It's so late and the rest are already asleep. I would have delivered the food myself, but the stairs in this sort of weather will kill my knees and back. I saw the light at your place..."

"It's almost midnight!" Ayame exclaimed, before getting up from her knees, "It's alright, I'll send it up to him..."

Surei coughed delicately, "I don't mean to be rude, Ayame. But your face...Shirakawa-san is going to get into a foul mood again if he sees you and the rest of us are going to be punished."

"But..." Ayame stopped as she felt the small hand on her arm.

"Daijoubu. I'll send the things up to him," Soujirou smiled warmly at her, his hands holding hers in reassurance, " It'll just take a few minutes, I'll be back before the tea turns cold. Surei-san, sorry to keep you waiting, I'll follow you to the kitchen."

"Soujirou." She said softly as the shoji door slid close.

A sudden draft blew into the room, extinguishing the flickering flame and plunging the room into darkness. Ayame sat frozen, her eyes blind as unease crept into her heart.

* * *

_Tokyo, Present Day_

"Tezuka, did you receive my invite?" The husky voice drawled lazily over the phone.

"And good evening to you too, Atobe." Tezuka replied as he loosened the constricting knot of his tie, and settled himself into the back of his comfortably worn leather armchair.

"Chh...You are such a stickler for formalities."

Tezuka allowed himself the barest of smiles as he detected the note of annoyance in Atobe's voice: he could almost picture the latter tapping his perfectly manicured nails with impatience.

"Yes I did. In fact, I was just looking at it when you called." Tezuka replied as he regarded the tasteful, and yet so obviously expensive cream and gold-embossed card.

"Well?"

"It's two months away, Atobe."

"You'll be attending it right? It's the biggest event in the Tokyo art scene. After all, my works are featured."

Tezuka found himself chuckling. Modesty was not a word that existed in Atobe's vocabulary. As Atobe had so eloquently said many years ago: _"Why should I pretend to be less when I am perfect? Modesty is for hypocrites."_

"Ah, how can I not attend then?" Tezuka's face was perfectly straight when he replied.

"Hn." Atobe snorted elegantly, not missing the vein of amusement in Tezuka's voice. But he was in a mellow mood, "You are such a dull fellow, my friend. I swear you behave as if you were fifty-three instead of thirty-five. You hardly socialise, and even on a late Saturday night, you are still at work."

"One of my patients had a relapse. I had to monitor his condition."

"Patients don't have relapses every day. I am sure that even if all your patients were perfectly healthy, you would still find an excuse to stay late at work. It's a miracle that you managed to find a time slot to get engaged to Junko."

"My fiancee has never complained about my work schedule, Atobe."

"Pardon me for saying this, Tezuka," Though his voice clearly indicated that he certainly did not need to be pardoned for anything, "But Junko is just like you. A female version of Tezuka. A class A workaholic, except that she is much prettier of course."

"You are only saying this because she doesn't worship the ground you walked on like most women do."

"Tsk, tsk. How can you forget about my countless male admirers as well?" After a slight pause to take a sip of his cognac, Atobe continued, "Seriously, Tezuka, both of you behave more like business associates than a couple. It's just so incredibly dull and proper."

"Junko is an old family friend, Atobe. I've known her for a long time, and everyone in my family likes her. Besides," Tezuka continued, his tone bland and a matter of fact, "I never sleep with business associates or colleagues in the hospital."

"You actually have sex? The wonder of it all! Is it always missionary or do you..."

"I'll be attending the exhibition along with Junko, Atobe." Replied Tezuka, effectively cutting Atobe off before he could venture into more salacious territory.

"Don't want to tell me the naughty details? Chh, what a spoilsport! Maa, maa, they are probably not too titillating considering it's you and Junko. Jaa ne, see you there then."

_This round to Atobe_, thought Tezuka as he put down the phone. Fingering the plush invite, Tezuka regarded the list of photographers who would be exhibiting alongside Atobe: Echizen Ryoma, Aoi Kentarou, Mizuki Hajime and _Haru_. Tezuka's left brow lifted as he regarded the last name. I wonder who this _Haru_ is? _Probably a gimmick to catch people's attention_. Dismissing the name, Tezuka picked up the phone.

"Moshi, moshi. Wanatabe Junko."

"Ah, good evening, Junko. Tezuka here. Atobe has invited us to an exhibition..."

* * *

If there does not seem to be much action here, please pardon me. As the title denotes, it is an interlude. The next posting will definitely be quite pivotal.Please also note that the rating of the next chapter might have to be "upped" due to the nature of the content. 


	8. Otanjoubi

Disclaimer: Alas, no one belongs to me!

A/N: AU POT story.

Thank you to all my reviewers. It has been a long hiatus...am extremely grateful for the support that has been given. This story was inspired because I am a Fuji-Tezuka fangirl, and other because I love RK and totally enjoyed Peacemaker. ) Bakumatsu era rocks!

This chapter can be disturbing...be warned. As usual, English translations are provided for Jap phrases.

Chapter IV: Otanjoubi (Birthday)

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Shirakawa Village, 1852 

The room was dark, filled with shadows cast by the weak flickering flame of the small oil lamp. Dense, sweet fumes curled sinuously, twining around the figure reclining indolently on the futon; permeating his yukata, enveloping his hair, seeping into his skin, and soaking into his bones. Anzu inhaled. Deeply, pleasurably, as the fulsome haze filled his lungs before diffusing into his blood stream. He felt relaxed, his body suffused with warmth. But there was an edge: his pulse that quickened ever so slightly, the sharp taste of anticipation on his tongue and a persistent throbbing ache _down there_. He licked his lips slowly, the wet tip moistening parched lips. He knew precisely what could take the ache away.

"Shirakawa-san, I have brought your food and sake. May I come in?"

_Oh yesss_...His voice was a sibilant his in his head. "Soujirou? Come in." _Come right in_.

* * *

For a moment, he could see nothing. Only shadows and outlines - his vision blurred by the thick fog of fumes. There was a sweet, sickly quality to the fulsome miasma that coiled lazily around him like a hundred undulating serpents. Soujirou's stomach turned and he fought down the reflexive urge to gag. _Calm down._ He told himself silently as he hurriedly laid the dishes on the low table. _Just finish your task and you can go back to your birthday celebration. Back to Aya nee-san._

"Ummm...oishi soudesu ne..." A voice whispered huskily in his ear.

Startled, Soujirou jerked his head up. His heart started to pound. Anzu was kneeling close to him. So close that Soujirou could feel the disturbing warmth of his damp breath on his ear and the nape of his neck. So close that he could feel the suffocating heat emanating from the man's body. So close that he could see the gleam of something...something dark and hungry in the man's eyes.

"Ummm..." Anzu inhaled deeply, languidly, as he leaned even closer. "Ii kaori da ne..."

Fingers digging into the heavy base of the wooden tray and suppressing his every instinct to sprint for the door, Soujirou bowed and murmured politely. "Shirakawa-san, the table is set. I will take my leave. Please enjoy."

The tray fell to the ground with a loud thud as a painful, vise-like grip clamped suddenly on his wrist. Heart pounding loudly, Soujirou stared into Anzu's grotesquely smiling face.

"Mada, mada." Anzu drawled, his mouth widening into a obscene grin.

Suddenly his intent was too clear.

He tried to run but the grip around his wrist was too tight. "Hanase!" Soujirou struggled, twisting and turning his body and flinging his arms, desperately attempting to free his imprisoned wrist. "Hanase!"

"Mada, mada." Anzu taunted. "Not until I am done with you." With that, Anzu bit the nape of Soujirou's neck.

"Iya da!" Soujirou shouted as he clawed and scratched and kicked at Anzu. Unknowingly, his struggles only served to inflame Anzu's arousal. Laughing with excitement, Anzu cruelly twisted the Soujirou's hand, trying to force the boy to scream.

Resolutely, Soujirou clenched his jaws and glared furiously at his captor.

"Oh, defiant aren't you? Let's see how long you are going to continue fighting." With his left hand, Anzu yanked Soujirou against him while his other hand grasped the boy's hair and brutally jerked his head back. Soujirou gasped, his face white with pain. Hungrily,

Anzu crushed his lips against Soujirou's and thrust his tongue into the latter's open mouth. Seconds later, he recoiled and flung Soujirou forcefully against the hard edge of the table. Soujirou doubled and collapsed in agony as the burning pain radiated from the small of his back. Wiping the trickle of blood from his mouth, he spat angrily, "Teme! How dare you bite me!"

Dazed, Soujirou crawled towards the shoji door.

He tossed his head back in a soundless cry as a pair of feet cruelly grinded his fingers on the ground. Anzu laughed as he increased the pressure of his feet, "You can't get away, I have you trapped."

"Iie! Hanase!" Soujirou struggled as Anzu dragged him roughly onto the futon. "Hanase! Yamete!"

"Teme, urusai!" Anzu roared. He backhanded Soujirou viciously across the face. "I will break you." He yanked open the front of Soujirou's yukata to expose his pale, creamy torso.

"Ha ha ha ha. Kirei na!" Anzu exclaimed breathlessly as straddled and trapped the prostrate boy with the weight of his body. Rapaciously, he licked and sucked and fondled the expanse of velvety flesh. "Amai!"

"Iie! Yamete! Yamete!" There was horror in Soujirou's voice as the hideous sounds of Anzu's groans filled his ears. Willing strength into his weakened body, Soujirou screamed to himself: _Fight, Soujirou! Fight! You are not going to let him do this to you. _

He slammed his knee into Anzu's midriff.

"Ommphff." Anzu fell backward in pain; temporarily freeing Soujirou.

_Now! Now! Now! Run! Run! Run! _Barely did Soujirou's body had time to heed his commands when Anzu uttered an enraged shout. Eyes wild with fury and mouth wet with spit, he grabbed Soujirou's mop of hair and slammed his head repeatedly on the ground.

"I will break you. I will break you." He chanted.

Slowly the light in the Soujirou's eyes faded as he veered into unconsciousness. Anzu tore his own clothes off. Arousal and anticipation sang in his veins as he moved to spread open the boy's legs. Even after the repeated beatings, Soujirou's spirit had not yielded yet. He was going to enjoy hurting the Soujirou - thrusting and pummeling into the boy until he writhed and shrieked in agony, until he bled, until he was bruised and torn. Anzu would use the boy again and again until his mind, spirit and body were broken and destroyed.

Taking a cup of tea, he upended the contents onto Soujirou's face. The light in the wide blue eyes flickered back; awareness and shock darkened Soujirou's blue eyes. Anzu smiled as he positioned himself between Soujirou's creamy, inviting thighs, "Anta wa ore no omocha da. Ore no mono da!" With that, he thrust forward.

Vision blurred, Soujirou screamed.

There was a shattering sound; Anzu fell like a crushingly heavy stone on him.

"Soujirou! Kami-sama! What did the bastard do to you? Soujirou! Soujirou! Buji desuka?" The deadweight was rolled off. Soujirou opened his eyes to see a familiar and beloved face, streaked with tears.

"Aya-nee!"

Warm, comforting arms enveloped his battered body, and a shaking hand cradled his bruised and bloodied face, "Gomenasai!" Ayame wept bitterly, "I should have known. I should have rushed here earlier. It's all my fault that this happened! All my fault! " Voice tensed with fear, Ayame gripped Soujirou, "Did he..."

Soujirou shook his head vehemently, trying to reassure the girl."He...he was just about to rape me. But you appeared...You saved me! What happened to..." Soujirou's eyes widened in comprehension as he saw the blood pooling at the base of the unconscious man's head and the shards of broken porcelain lying around.

"Aya-nee, is he..."

"Soujirou," Ayame said softly, "do you think you can walk?"

At the boy's nod, she continued, "We have to leave here right now. We have to escape."

* * *

Oishi soudesu ne : Looks delicious 

Ii kaori da ne : Smells good

Mada : Not yet

Hanase: Let go!

Iya da : Expression of distaste, hate

Teme : Bastard

Iie : No

Yamete: Stop

Urusai : Noisy

Kirei : Beautiful

Amai : Sweet

Anta: wa ore no omocha da You are my toy

Ore no mono da : You are my thing

Kami-sama : God

Buji desuka : Are you safe/unscathed?


End file.
